


At the Brush of your Hand

by Pureblood_Muggle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21846688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pureblood_Muggle/pseuds/Pureblood_Muggle
Summary: A little fic in response to a Santa exchange. My giftee asked for, amongst others, the soulmate trope.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 16
Kudos: 220
Collections: Dumpster Fire SS 2019





	At the Brush of your Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xxDustNight88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxDustNight88/gifts).



> My dear, I do hope you enjoy this one. Happy Christmas to you x
> 
> This is not beta read, so any mistakes are entirely my own!

Hermione ran her hand through her hair for the umpteenth time in the past hour. Surely, this was wrong. There had to be a different solution but the text in front of her stared almost mockingly back. 

_ True Soulmates are rare indeed. Not everyone has one. How, and why, Soulmates come to be is as unknown as ever.  _

_ Some people might even have known each other all their lives and not realised until their first touch upon both having turned twenty-five.  _

_ Nothing remains as mysterious, or magical, as seeing your soulmate’s initials imprinted on your skin, marking you as forever theirs. _

Hermione huffed and flipped through the pages to a different chapter, rereading for the millionth time, that what she was afraid to believe as truth: Soulmates are destined to be together, unable to find true happiness elsewhere, often spiralling into depression if they didn’t follow the urge to be with one another. 

She glanced back at her left wrist. DLM - in fancy, curly script, no less. There was only one person she knew with those initials and there was no way  _ he _ was her Soulmate. They didn’t even know each other. She snorted in disgust.  _ Urge to be with one another _ , my arse!

Granted, they’d only spoken twice in the past five years after graduating Hogwarts, each achieving outstanding results in their N.E.W.T.s and they’d held a delicate truce during that time at school - each leaving the other alone entirely. 

Maybe, just maybe, there was someone else with those initials. The cute guy at the coffee shop who’d held open the door for her the day the mark appeared? He’d briefly touched her back as she passed. Hermione scrunched up her nose and wondered how she could possibly find that stranger again. She would just have to go for another coffee and hope for luck. Hermione slammed the book shut. 

Or, she winced even as she thought it, she would have to simply call on  _ him  _ and find out if he, too, had her initials on his arm. Hermione flopped back onto her pillows and threw her arm over her eyes. 

Why her? She wondered. Why couldn’t she have just won the lotto? Why did she have to go and get a Soulmate instead? And one she didn’t actually care to have, at that? It just wasn’t fair. Life rarely was though and, after a recharging night’s sleep, she decided to take the Dragon by his horns and apparated to the edge of a large Manor in Wiltshire she really wished she would never have to see again. 

Much to her dismay, she was received by a house-elf. The fact that the Malfoys still - and she used the word  _ very _ loosely - employed any house-elves at all rankled her more than she’d cared to admit. She knew what that family was like. Why she was so unpleasantly surprised was beyond her.  __

Before she could speak more than a greeting and a mumbled ‘Thank you’ at the elf for taking her coat, Narcissa Malfoy appeared, all but floating down the large marble staircase o join her in the entrance hall.

“Miss Granger, what a pleasant surprise.” It struck Hermione that, despite the friendly tone of voice, the practised smile on the older woman’s face was neither portraying pleasure at anything she saw nor did her expression show any form of surprise.

“Mrs Malfoy, thank you for receiving me unannounced,” she returned, briefly shaking the woman’s hand. Very briefly. It seemed as though the blonde woman couldn’t quite make herself touch Hermione more than strictly necessary. 

“Join me for tea, won’t you? Draco and I have only just sat down and the scones are simply marvellous.” With that, she turned and glided back towards the staircase and up, Hermione following behind her, casting furtive glances around. The place had changed. It didn’t look anything like she remembered. 

“Do you like how I redecorated? It was in dire need of an update after… after.”

Hermione swallowed around a lump before she managed to find her voice. “Yes, it’s… lovely. Airy. Bright. I like it.” She caught a glimpse of a genuine smile on Narcissa’s face but it was replaced with a mask of careful indifference just as quickly.

“I’m glad you do.” They’d arrived in a long corridor with doors leading off either side and a large double doors at the far end. A door to the left was partially open and Narcissa walked in ahead of her. “In here, my dear.”

As Hermione entered the room, movement caught her eyes. Draco had risen from his seat and was now staring at her in a way she’d never seen him do before. His eyes on her face, briefly flicking down to her arm and back up. He looked like the proverbial rabbit in the headlights. Her stomach dropped. That kind of look could only mean one thing: he had her initials on his wrist, too. 

It wasn’t until Narcissa gently touched her elbow and bade her forward to sit down that she noticed she must have been staring right back at him just the same way. 

Once she was seated, Narcissa offered her a cup of tea which she gladly accepted. As she reached for it, her sleeve rode up and, momentarily, time was suspended as all three stared at the exposed skin, clearly marked with DLM. Hermione swallowed and took the cup and saucer, setting it down in front of her. 

“I’m - I’m sure you…” Hermione paused and shook her head to clear it. She took a breath and looked at the object of her dilemma. “You know why I’m here.”

Draco’s eyes were firmly on his tea where he needlessly still stirred his milk that had long since amalgamated with it. It was Narcissa who spoke though. 

“My dear, I’m positive we can come to a mutually agreeable solution.“ She took a dainty sip of her tea. “Lucius and I have been speaking all last night. We are, for example, prepared to put a discreet but substantial settlement on you. I had intended to call on you myself to discuss particulars.” 

Hermione could only stare at the woman. When she realised her mouth was gaping, she closed it with an audible snap. “Are you trying to pay me off so this-”, she pulled up her sleeve revealing his initials, “-doesn’t get acted upon?”

“Do you want to marry my son?” Hermione’s eyebrows shot up just as high as his mother’s at the candid question. “There’s no need to look at me like that, Miss Granger. Until this morning, I was convinced the initials that appeared on his arm had been an elaborate hoax. Another ill-conceived idea to claim the Malfoy assets by some enterprising person. A spell to replicate the look of nothing more than a myth that soulmates truly exist.”

Hermione let out a huff of a laugh. “Why would I want any of your assets? Why would I of all people try to be back here, on purpose? And a myth? Merlin, I wish it were a myth but I’ve done nothing but research for the past three days and there is just too much evidence when looking for it.” 

Narcissa all but ignored her rush of words that had become more emotional by the letter. “Draco tells me that the two of you are not even on speaking terms.”

It occurred to Hermione that they could’ve been by now had his mother given him a chance to get a word in edgewise. She took another shaky breath and turned to him.

“Malf-,” she stopped and cleared her throat. “Draco.” He looked up from his cup at her use of his first name. Being pinned by his grey eyes so unexpectedly rendered her temporarily mute. She’d come to his home to see her initials with her own eyes. Narcissa had all but confirmed they were there but she wanted, needed, to see them with her own eyes. The words, however, wouldn’t come so she simply pushed her arm out at him, the letters in stark contrast with her pale skin. 

For a moment, she thought he would go back to ignoring her existence but then he, too, moved his arm forward, carefully pushing his sleeve up only by a fraction so her initials could be seen: HJG. Hermione’s breath hitched as she realised that they were not in the same curly font, but her own, decidedly practical, hand. She stared back down at her own wrist. Was that how he wrote?

She was pulled out of her thoughts by him addressing her for the first time. “Granger, have you stared enough?”

Her eyes snapped back up to his. She could feel the colour rise in her cheeks and she pulled her arm back lowering her sleeve in the process. “Why you?” she blurted out suddenly. He barked a hollow laugh.

“Granger, I’ve been asking myself the same thing.” He went back to stirring his tea. “Maybe it’s the universe having a laugh at me, or that Karma thing the Patil girl always mentioned right before our N.E.W.T.s.”

Hermione couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. “Are you trying to tell me that being my soulmate would be your penance for being such a pretentious, arrogant, snotty, bullying arse to me for nearly a decade? Where does that leave me in your little pity party? What on Earth have I done to deserve you as my soulmate? Is that Karma, too?”

A movement to her right made Hermione look across to Draco’s mother. She had stood up, a peculiar look on her face that Hermione couldn’t decipher. “I will leave you both to talk. I have other matters to look after this morning.” 

Hermione jumped up from her seat at that. “There’s no need. I will go. Clearly, I’m destined for a life of misery with or without your son. You needn’t trouble yourself further. And keep your Galleons. I wouldn’t touch them to save my life.” 

With that, she rushed out the door, down the stairs and into the warm summer air, disapparating as soon as she felt the Manor’s wards, knowing she was now through them. 

***

It took exactly one week. One full week of Hermione researching glamours that would cover his initials for more than a few hours. If only she could get the letters to stop staring at her, maybe then she’d be able to go on with life. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t find happiness without him. She refused to believe that to be true. She’d been happy with all her exes until they’d drifted apart, after all.

But then, a niggling voice in the back of her mind pointed out, would you have drifted apart had one of them been your soulmate? She refused to listen to that voice. 

Seven days after her abrupt departure from Malfoy Manor, a knock on her door interrupted her perusal of yet another book she’d procured from the Unspeakable department. 

“Malfoy!” 

Hermione had expected nothing to come from him, not even an owl. Certainly not after how she left his home, clearly stating that she had no intention of seeing this soulmate thing through. She’d definitely not expected him to just turn up on her doorstep on a Sunday morning while she was in a ratty old pair of pyjamas, her hair in a frizzy bun and sleep still in her eyes. 

“May I come in?” His impeccably polite words were accompanied by impeccable clothing. Hermione didn’t think she’d ever felt as frumpy in her life and wondered if any of the Malfoys ever looked anything but their best, even at their worst. She mutely opened the door wider and gestured for him to enter.

He took in her disarray on the coffee table: a myriad of books, parchment, quills, muggle pens, a cup of still-steaming coffee. 

“You won’t find what you’re looking for in those. I tried,” he said, pointing at her mess. 

“What do you suggest then? I’m all out of ideas.” Hermione slumped back onto the floor, her back against the couch, and picked up her coffee. “Sit down and tell me your solution. At this point, I’m all ears.”

“Even if you won’t like the solution I have found?” he asked quietly as he gingerly seated himself on the far end of the sofa. 

“Look, I don’t like that I have your initials on my arm. I’d bet you don’t like mine on yours either. Whatever solution you found, I’m sure I’ll be happy to try it just to get rid of this… this  _ thing  _ that connects us.”

Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a little vial of clear liquid. He placed it in front of her. “Amor Veritas.”

“A love potion? You want me to drink that?”

“It’s not a love potion. It’s a potion I found in an old book in our library. It’s supposed to reveal intentions buried in the soul, soulmates.”

“How does it work? And do you have the book with you? I want to read it for myself before I consent to any potion you brought.”

He reached back into his pocket and brought forth a delicate book that looked ancient and fit in the palm of her hand. “I placed a mark between the pages that are relevant.” 

Draco sat back and said nothing for the next hour while Hermione’s coffee went cold, and her mind went frantic with what she was reading. When she finally snapped the book shut and turned to him, she was thinking too many thoughts to work out which to start with.

“I know,” he said. “I brewed this a week ago just because it felt like I was doing something to deal with this mess. I never intended to actually use it.”

“You really think we are each others’ true love?” she asked, sounding more than incredulous. 

“Can’t say I’m in love with you, no.”

“And this potion - it’s supposed to show what’s in our souls. The book says there’s a definite reaction if something should be there between the two drinkers?”

“That’s the theory. Of course, this is a book from the middle ages. Who knows if any of that actually works. Maybe it was just written to con unsuspecting maidens into snogging a man.” He shrugged nonchalantly though Hermione could make out the tension in him. Hell, she had tensed up herself. If she consented to this, it would mean each of them holding a drop of this potion on their tongue as they kissed only to see if a reaction would occur when their drops mingled. 

Kissing Draco Malfoy. The ferret. The boy who sneered at and made fun of her for years. Though, she was compelled to remember, hadn’t bullied her at all since Voldemort’s fall. Had, indeed, kept his nose clean. She thought of what Harry and Ron would say if they knew she was sitting in her living room with Draco Malfoy and contemplating whether to snog him or not. 

She giggled despite herself, giggles that had her clutch her tummy and Draco looking at her in alarm when those giggles turned into sobs. It took awhile but eventually, she got a hold of herself and wiped the tears off with her sleeves. 

Draco hadn’t moved from his spot. 

At length, she said, “Go on then. Let’s get this over with, Malfoy.”

“You really want to do this? You want to kiss me?” He sounded sceptical at best.

“Don’t be daft. Of course not, but what else is there to do? In the name of science and research, we might as well. We both know this is utter rubbish. Nothing’s gonna come of it, anyway.”

“Then why do it?”

“Because I always need one hundred percent of the facts and we will rule out a ‘what if’ scenario neither of us wants to dwell on. If you didn’t already dwell on it, you wouldn’t be here, showing me this.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and struggled up from the floor. She grabbed a tissue from the box on the side table and blew her nose. After vanishing the tissue, she sat down next to him on the couch and grabbed the vial. He stiffened next to her.

“Breathe Malfoy. It’s only a kiss. It means nothing.”

“Nothing,” he agreed tightly, “Until it does if this potion reacts.”

Hermione’s stomach knotted itself. She pushed the thought of them reacting and being compatible and true soulmates away to the back of her mind. This potion could prove that there was nothing more than bad luck at work. 

With a shaking hand, she uncorked the glass and tipped a small drop onto her tongue, careful to keep it there in her mouth and held the potion out to him. He visibly braced himself and did the same. 

Both sat, staring at the other, unmoving until Hermione managed to make an exasperated sound in the back of her throat and pulled Draco closer by the lapels of his coat. His eyes widened at her actions and she wondered if she looked just as spooked as he did at that moment. Not giving herself any time to reconsider, she pressed her mouth to his and waited. 

And waited. And waited as they sat, their mouths connected. Nothing happened. No earth-shattering quakes or quivers, no proverbial stars. Hermione pulled back when he moved to reach for the book. He flipped it open on the marked page and wordlessly pointed at the words that indicated their potions needed to be joined now.

She swallowed, then cursed and grabbed the vial again to reapply another drop. Hermione held it on her tongue and nodded at him. This time, when their mouths met, she closed her eyes and nearly jumped when she felt his hands on either side of her face. Hermione thought he was pulling back again when she realised all he did was open his lips slightly. With a shuddering breath in, she mirrored him and let her potion covered tongue meet his.

With a gasp, she deepened the kiss at the same time he pulled her into his lap. The logical part of her brain shut down completely as sensations and feelings washed over her that she had never experienced before. Suddenly, Draco wasn’t close enough - she wanted to be closer, crawl with him into his skin if it were possible. 

When her wits returned to her they were horizontal on her couch and his mouth had moved on from hers to her neck, his hand moving up to caress her breasts under her top. 

“Oh god,” she moaned, turning her head into his neck, embarrassed. Draco appeared to come to his senses about the same time, hastily removing his hand and muttering a distinct curse under his breath. Yet he made no move to get up off her. She tried to push him off but her wriggling brought her in unmistakable contact of his anatomy she never thought she’d care about.  _ It _ , apparently, cared about her though.

“Please stop moving,” he breathed into her ear making her shiver. She nodded her head and held her breath.

What the hell did this mean? The book mentioned a definite reaction. Well, if this wasn’t one of those, she didn’t know what would be. She bit her lip, trying to rationalise what had just happened while he slowly moved to sit up at the end of the couch, his head in his hands. 

Hermione righted her top and sat beside him in silence. 

Maybe… “Are you sure that wasn’t a lust potion?”

He had to clear his throat before he answered. “Positive. Analyze it yourself if you don’t believe me.”

“No. I do believe you. I just… I guess I didn’t expect this. What does it mean?”

“I don’t know.” He paused. “What do you want it to mean?”

She rubbed at the initials on her arm. What did she want this to mean? She wasn’t in love with him. Hell, she didn’t even know him. What did she know about him? He was smart. He’d achieved high grades without much effort. Some of the projects he handed in before their N.E.W.T.s had been nothing short of amazing. She had been envious of that at the time and didn’t think him worthy of such success.

That’s all she knew about him though. Well, that, and now she knew that he could kiss. Boy could the man kiss. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, then looked away when she realised he was already looking at her.

“Do you want me to go?” he asked just as she blurted out, “What’s your favourite colour?”

They stared at each other for a moment. 

“Purple.”

“What?”

“Purple. My favourite colour. What’s yours?”

“Green,” she answered on an exhale. “What was your favourite subject?”

“Potions. Yours?”

*** 

And so, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy got to know each other. When, two weeks later, they kissed again - this time on a whim without any potions involved - both of them looked flushed and happy by the end of it. 

Three months after that, even their most reluctant friends admitted that they were actually good for each other. 

Exactly a year after their initials had appeared that fateful day at the Ministry, after no more than an accidental brushing of hands in a crowded lift, Draco surprised Hermione with a ring. A simple one that deviated from the monstrosities that were Malfoy heirlooms. 

She said yes.


End file.
